


Her Greatest Disappointment... Not really

by YearnForSomeDay



Series: Her Greatest Disappointment... Not really [1]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Cassidy and Caroline are ferocious and I love them dearly but fear them as well, F/F, Fluff, Miranda is not as stealthy as she thinks, Okay I had to forgo the smut, Personal Growth, Please Forgive me, There may be smut maybe possibly could be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25918984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearnForSomeDay/pseuds/YearnForSomeDay
Summary: Watching Andrea walk away, Miranda makes a split decision and asks Roy to follow. It has been months since she saw Andrea, and would be damned if she didn't take the chance. To do what Miranda isn't sure yet, but she can not let her leave again. Picks up right where the movie ends.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Series: Her Greatest Disappointment... Not really [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899331
Comments: 70
Kudos: 442





	1. Out of Breath

Miranda turned her head slightly and slipped into the waiting car. Pretending to adjust her sunglasses, she hoped to have hidden being caught off guard. Breathing in deeply, she turned back, only to see Andrea walking away, smiling to herself. 

Miranda watched her and chuckled, reviewing in her mind how she imagined Andrea would’ve reacted to her “recommendation letter”. Indignant, she supposed. Fiery, self-righteous, and then, perhaps, shocked and even dumbfounded. Glancing up, she met Roy’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Go.” Miranda rolled her eyes, well aware that she had been caught musing. 

Roy obediently drove off, and Miranda put her glasses back on. She went back to thinking about the girl. Andrea. The girl who had left her, in her greatest time of need. The girl who had been deemed ‘she-who-must-not-be-named’ by the clackers, as they’d seen Miranda flash her cold glare on someone who dared to ask of Andrea’s whereabouts after Paris. Who once seemed beyond teachable, and whom Miranda thought of firing numerous times. The girl who had tried to save her from getting hurt. Who seemed to have cared.

“Stop.” 

The car rolled to a halt.

“Yes, Miranda?” 

“Roy, turn the car around… Follow Andrea.”

If Roy was surprised, he didn’t show it, and turned the car around immediately. Miranda searched the streets for Andrea, but was having trouble locating her. The thought of missing the chance to see her again, made Miranda feel squeamish. She heard a loud pounding in her eardrums that annoyed her greatly but could not find where it came from.

“She’s right over there, Miranda.” The car was expertly swerved, and parked by the sidewalk. Miranda could see Andrea was about to come close to the car, and without thinking, lowered the window.

“Andrea.” Miranda spoke with her usual pitch, hoping she needn’t call out. Andrea somehow heard her, and walked up. Her eyes were slightly widened by surprise. Miranda opened her mouth, only to realize she hadn’t thought of what to say. After a few seconds, Andrea’s surprise turned to confusion.

“Miranda?”

“Get in the car.”

Miranda did not need Andrea to know that words were failing her. So she returned to what was familiar, giving out orders. She waited. Moments passed. Andrea continued to peer in but her expression was incredulous. 

Well. Miranda supposed the lifted eyebrow was to show her that Andrea no longer needed to listen to her orders. 

Ridiculous. 

Andrea was not backing down.

It annoyed her to no end. 

Fine.

“Please.”

Now both brows had disappeared into Andrea’s bangs. Miranda sighed impatiently. The car door opened, and Andrea hesitantly lowered into the seat beside Miranda. The surprised expression on the younger woman’s face had yet to dissipate. She did not look directly at Miranda.

“Hi, Roy. Long time, huh?”

“Andy, it’s good to see you.”

Her chauffer grinned at the girl. Miranda rolled her eyes while her lips twitched. She’d forgotten how Andrea seemed to have the knack at charming those around her. 

“Miranda?”

She tore her eyes away from her once-considered-protégée to look ahead. 

“Home.”

The car returned to week day traffic. Miranda refocused on Andrea. 

“We’re going to the townhouse?” Andrea finally looked directly at Miranda. 

“I did not move since we last met.”

“Right, of course not.” Andrea’s foot bounced. 

The editor who had her eyes safely covered by dark sunglasses studied Andrea. The new haircut suited her. It made her look... elfin. Glancing down, she did a thorough examination of Andrea’s attire. Black turtleneck, clunky necklace, faux-leather jacket, dark trousers. Her eyes locked on the boots. They looked extremely expensive and extremely recognizable. Miranda tapped her finger against her lips and nodded to herself. Functionable and passed as chic. Andrea appeared to be hyperaware of Miranda’s focus on her, and her shoulders relaxed slightly after Miranda’s nod. 

“So… how have you been?” Andrea’s question seemed to hover in the air, unsure where to go.

Miranda pursed her lips. 

“Banal conversation?”

“Ill-mannered treatment?”

Raising an eyebrow, Miranda stared her ex-assistant down. Andrea did not back down, though uncertainty shone through her eyes. 

“Work, is simply work. My employees continue to bore me with their incompetence and I continue to raise hell upon those who disappoint.” Miranda supposed she would grant Andrea a reply to reward her for pushing back.

“Well, all that hardship pays off every month. I loved the spread about Janelle Lebon. She was very sweet when we met at one of the shoots.”

Miranda did not know what to do with the information that Andrea continued to keep up with Runway. However, talking about work was something she could do. It kept her from saying what was on the tip of her tongue. She would not let anything that could embarrass her slip out. She could not show Andrea how she wanted to know… no. It wouldn’t do to dwell.

“Yes, I was not completely dissatisfied with the last issue, though this month may be different. How they dare to hope I would be fine with mediocrity is truly beyond my understanding.” 

Andrea laughed, and the sound enveloped Miranda like her warmest wrap. 

“Mediocrity, ugh. Disgusting.” 

“So you understand.” Miranda sniffed.

Andrea continued to smile. “I remember having to call Lou at four a.m. because of said mediocrity. His wife was… not pleased at that.” 

“Hmm. I hope the art department will fare somewhat better after Emily leads it.”

“She’s leading the art department?” Miranda could hear excitement in Andrea’s tone.

“If she still wishes. Lou will be retiring this year, within a few months, the transfer will be made.”

“That's excellent! Oh Miranda, that’s the best thing that could happen to her!”

The pure joy affected Miranda a smidge. Just a smidge.

“I figured it was due. She certainly paid her dues.”

Andrea beamed. 

It surprised Miranda to see how much Andrea cared for Emily as a friend. What surprised her more was the warm feeling that she felt. 

“What about you though?”

Miranda turned to look at her former assistant. 

“What about me?”

“How are you doing?”

“Really, Andrea? Haven’t I just told you?”

And this girl wanted to be a journalist? Yet she couldn’t even remember facts that were just said?

“Actually, you told me how the magazine was doing. Not you. How about the girls?”

Miranda turned to the window, but looked at nothing in particular. Well. She was disconcerted by Andrea asking about her personal life. She shouldn’t have been surprised though. Andrea had always… cared.

“The girls are well.” She smiled fondly. 

“How is sixth grade?”

Trust Andrea Sachs to remember how old her girls were. 

“Quite similar to fifth, though they are starting to do their own homework, finally.” 

Miranda guessed it had a lot to do with her paying more attention to them. Choosing to spend more time home. She’d realized just how little time she spent with them after Stephen demanded the divorce and realized how few people she cared about after… Paris. Losing her girls to work was unacceptable. So, she bucked up and told the girls her plan to cut back work. They embraced her excitedly, and Caroline even let Cassidy have the extra piece of pie that night. Miranda smiled at the memory. 

Hearing no reply from Andrea, Miranda turned to see Andrea looking straight at her, wearing a soft expression. What she saw in Andrea’s eyes took Miranda’s breath away. She swallowed her words, hoping to wash down her uneasiness, as well as a feeling she didn’t dare acknowledge.

She didn’t dare look away from Andrea, although it unnerved her. She lifted her chin slightly. 

“Have you been writing then? Anything worth mentioning?” Miranda asked, once she found words again.

“Oh, you know.” Andrea shrugged.

“I do not.” Miranda glared.

“Freelancing isn't all it's hyped up to be, but I’m getting somewhere.”

Andrea shrugged again, but couldn’t hide her smile.

Miranda was irritated for reasons she didn’t know. 

“Getting somewhere? I remember the piece you did a few months ago on Pride to be quite memorable. It certainly caught the attention of several publishers, did it not? Do not sell yourself short.”

“I mean, y…yes, but I’m only starting my career and have a lot further to go…” Andrea stammered a bit.

Miranda was pleased that she could still make Andrea stutter.

Her contentment was short-lasting.

“Wait, how do you know about the publishers? Did you have something to do with that?”

Feeling Andrea’s gaze up on her, Miranda felt her cheeks warm up. 

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

“I mean, did you have something to do with the publishers seeing my article?”

Miranda did not speak.

“Miranda.”

Miranda whipped her head to give her best glare.

“I am in the publishing world, am I not? News come across me, it is absurd that I -”

Miranda was unable to finish her sentence, for Andrea leaned in and pressed a light kiss upon her cheek.

Miranda could not remember the last time she had been lost for words, let alone several times a day. When Andrea leaned back sheepishly in her seat, Miranda felt the loss of warmth she emitted. 

“Thank you.”

Miranda hummed.

She looked ahead, for she could not look at Andrea yet. Roy caught her eye again in the rearview mirror and smiled. Miranda rolled her eyes at being caught, yet again. Yet she couldn’t hide the giddy smile threatening to burst through. She and Andrea had a lot to talk about, if the young woman was willing. Something told Miranda she would be. Though many things had yet to be settled, and Miranda was quite unsure what this… thing would turn out to be, she was hopeful. The longing that was blossoming in her made it difficult to wait, but she would. 

She glanced at Andrea, to find her peeking back. Miranda could not contain the smile any longer and was blinded by the beaming expression shining back at her. 

Yes. She supposed this would be acceptable. At the very least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I happened to open a tab on my phone that was long forgotten and returned to the fandom. It makes me so happy that new stories are being added, and the old ones are just as wonderful as I remember. Hope that you enjoy this one as well, please don't be shy and leave a comment if you have the time! :) (Feel free to leave a prompt if you have one!)


	2. Past Grievances

The car steeps to a stop. Roy opens Miranda’s door for her while Andrea gets out from the other side. It seems Andrea’s previous bravado has diminished a bit, tapping her foot anxiously. Roy tips his chauffer hat, Miranda nods briefly at him. 

“Bye Roy. It was lovely seeing you.”

No forced politeness. Warm tone, to someone whom she did not know so well, and only for a few months’ time. Hmm, how utterly Andrea.

“You too, Andy.” 

Miranda glides to her front door as the pleasantries are being exchanged. Stepping in, she swivels around to see if Andrea has followed. She had better. Miranda pauses and holds a hand to her chest, calming her heart that dared to skip a beat. Andrea steps back from the very close proximity sheepishly. 

“Sorry.”

Miranda eyes Andrea and sniffs. Her nose had nearly been pressed to Andrea’s neck. She silently reviews the scent in her mind. Sandalwood, citrus, and a hint of something else… Hmm. 

Miranda leaves Andrea to close the front door, and walks to the kitchen. With her back to Andrea, she lets out a low breath. The excited energy that buzzed in the car has now evaporated in the large space of Miranda’s house, and a more tense and trepidatious vibe fills the air. Miranda decides that the nervousness is coming from Andrea, for she herself certainly never feels anything but sure. 

After a few moments she hears Andrea’s light footsteps following. Andrea has not grown out of the habit of taking her shoes off at the townhouse.

“A drink?”

“Oh, yes please. Wine if you have it.”

Miranda meets Andrea’s eyes then, amused steel blue conversing with embarrassed cinnamon brown.

“Of course you have wine. Um, white, please.”

Miranda keeps her face blank but shakes her head slightly. Even if the girl seemed to have grown a backbone, Andrea was still not entirely different from the awkward, bumbling girl she was about a year ago. 

“Aren’t the girls going to be back soon? It’s getting dark out.” Andrea’s tone is light but wary, as though she thought she should leave. 

“They’re sleeping over at a friend’s tonight. To celebrate getting A’s on their history exam.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

Miranda hears the interest in her voice, tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

“I’m sure you remember how it is. After all, you’ve only outgrown the sleepover age not too long ago. Eighteen, are you?”

Miranda’s gaze flicker to Andrea’s, and she is satisfied to see Andrea looking as though she were wondering whether the jab was teasing or not. The editor holds the two flutes of wine, and walks over to the sitting room. Andrea follows. 

“Indeed, I’m basically still a teenager. Ma’am.”

Miranda purses her lips at the offending word, and glares at Andrea. She sits in her favorite chair.

“Careful, you will reach this dark old age someday. Mind your elders.”

“Ha! Elders? Please, no matter what age, you’ll still be as inscrutable as you are now, and just as terrifying to us youngsters.” Andrea cheerfully replies as she sits across from Miranda. Her spirits seem to have returned a bit.

“Hmm. And everyone else, I would assume.”

“Naturally.”

Miranda lifts her wine glass in jest, and Andrea returns the gesture. Miranda certainly does not note the fact that both of them are grinning into their drinks.

“Have you written anything worth mentioning as of late?” 

It takes seconds for Andrea to react.

“Me?”

“Do you see someone else in this room?”

“I don’t know, we’ve never really talked this much before.”

“Yes, well. I am aware this is a new dynamic. If you do not wish to share,” Miranda stands, feeling annoyed. She would not ask questions then. Would not inquire how Andrea had been all these months. She clenches her fingers. Fine. 

Andrea jumps up, and Miranda can only focus on the hand around her wrist.

“I didn’t say that, Miranda.”

A few moments, and Andrea has yet to let go. Miranda clears her throat. Andrea lets her hand fall.

“I suppose not.” She forces the words.

Miranda stares into understanding eyes. Understanding what, exactly? 

“Would you let me share?” Andrea’s tone is teasing and bursting with excitement.

Miranda supposes she might listen to the jabber. Nothing better to do at the moment. She sits back down and gestures for Andrea to take her seat as well.

“If you must.”

“I actually just left an interview at The New York Mirror, before I saw you back at Elias-Clarke.” Andrea was practically glowing with pleasure. 

Just today? Miranda had had the letter sent over a week ago. 

Incompetence everywhere. 

However, that would explain how brightly Andrea’s eyes were shining. Honestly. No poker game would ever be won by Andrea Sachs.

“And?” 

“Thanks to my former boss, I got the gig.” 

Andrea mock-bows, and Miranda rolls her eyes. At least the girl recognized her aid.

“Yes, I am a hundred percent the reason of your hiring.” Miranda says drily. As scathing as her letter had been, the warning of being a fool was entirely true. Even the editor of the microscopic New York Mirror could not be so half-witted as to not hire Andrea.

“Regardless, I start next Monday.”

“And I expect you are working on something currently.”

“This may be boring.” Andrea warns.

“I sat through Irv’s truly inspiring speech today without bleeding tears of boredom, so by all means.”

Andrea laughs, tilting her head back. Miranda shivers. It was only October, but it seemed like it was chilly enough to feel the breeze indoors. She would have to speak to the housekeeper about this. Nevertheless, Miranda regained composure, refusing to be ruffled by the weather. 

“Well, this is more of a pet project. I’m currently working on a piece about the sex industry, and whether the women know or care that they have been exploited. Some men as well.”

Andrea sounds grim, and her eyes harden around the edges.

“I see. I would assume they care.”

“Well, obviously. But some of the women just want to get by. From what I’ve heard, their bodies are just a means to get paid for them, and they believe it is their choice.”

“And you do not believe so.”

Andrea lets out a heavy sigh, and Miranda can see how much the subject bothers her.

“I fucking hate that men can hold out a pretty penny and have their way with these women, taking advantage of the hellish situations they’re in.”

Andrea shakes her head angrily. Miranda observes how the wine in her glass shakes slightly as well.

“Yes?”

“But what if the women have no other choice, and this allows them a chance? This girl I interviewed, she’s just a junior in college and has to pay for her brother’s tuition, her mother’s spending problems and her father’s drinking. With a regular job, there’s no way she could ever pay off her student loans. Ever. Taking this… job, she can be independent from her abusive mom at least. And take care of her brother.” 

With her voice torn at the end of her tirade, Andrea stops the furious rant, eyebrows pushed together, eyes shut tight. Miranda watches her massaging the sides of her head to get rid of a migraine. Miranda stands and goes to the kitchen cabinet. Walking back, she sits on the sofa next to Andrea instead of the single loveseat, and silently hands out the aspirin she procured. Andrea hesitantly takes the pill and the water Miranda set on the table.

“Thank you.” Andrea murmured.

Miranda continues to study the young woman sitting so very close to her. She sees the same drive that Andrea had during her time at Runway, but also sees how the real world is threatening to beat down her naivety. It’s good that Andrea is finally seeing how fucked up the world is, perhaps she would soon toughen up. A tiny voice in the back of Miranda’s mind whispers how much she would like to shield Andrea from this kind of pain. 

“Still a bleeding heart, I see.” Miranda says, shaking away the pestering thought.

Andrea chuckles bitterly.

“There are times I wish I weren’t.”

Miranda lets Andrea stew for a few moments. There was a distant past when she felt the same way, that injustices had to be made right. Now, it was much easier to compartmentalize. She’d made peace years ago that the world would always be the unfair shamble it always had been. Of course, she had climbed to the very top, in spite and because of these injustices. It is just how the world keeps moving. 

However, she does not think Andrea would understand this in her young age. She would learn all of this in her own time, Miranda ponders, not without regret.

“It is better to feel, rather than taking a backseat and turning a blind eye. What you are doing, is quite inspiring.” She hears herself say, softly. 

Before she has time to realize just what she said, Andrea springs to attention.

“I’m sorry, did you just say I was inspiring?” Andrea questions with her doe eyes large. 

“You misheard.” Miranda makes sure she isn’t looking at Andrea.

“You did.” Andrea sounds amazed, in disbelief, and dare she say, happy to earn the compliment Miranda did not intend to give.

Miranda refuses to acknowledge the twinkle in Andrea’s eyes that sets a pleasant feeling in her gut. 

“Mir-an-da.” 

The editor takes a dainty sip of her wine, wishing she hadn’t taken off her sunglasses. She ignores how Andrea’s playful singsong rendition of her name makes her feel something. The girl dares to be insolent with her, and Miranda could only presume it was because of the high at getting the job at that tiny paper of hers. 

She also ignores how she almost enjoys the teasing.

“You were never this brazen, though you were bold I suppose.”

“Brazen? I like that word.” Andrea grins again, gleefully.

“You do seem the kind of person to like a word.” Miranda taunts.

“Yeah? What kind of person is that?”

“How did the girls describe their classmate? Ah.”

Miranda makes sure Andrea is looking right into her eyes. She withholds the gaze and hears an intake of breath. Miranda feels the corners of her mouth uplifting.

“Weenie.”

Andrea’s mouth drops open. Miranda takes another sip of wine, shoulders trembling, and cannot hold in her laughter when she sees just how disbelieving Andrea’s face is, eyes bulging like the goldfish her girls had when they were young. Unlike the goldfish, Andrea doesn’t take the load off her jaw, and lets her mouth hang wide. 

Miranda laughs, despite knowing Andrea has never seen her this way. Few, few people have.

After a few moments of her laughing on her own, she hears Andrea joining in. And Miranda feels her chest tighten with the sound. She wonders if she’ll hear it again. She feels herself sobering at the thought of it not happening. She looks at Andrea, and looks at how young, how carefree, how beautiful she is. Yes. Beautiful. Only a complete idiot would look at Andrea and not be aware of her beauty. 

Miranda reminds herself that she sees the most attractive people in the world, truly every single day, yet she cannot remember ever seeing anyone that holds a candle to how Andrea looks at this very moment. She thinks of a few words that she likes. Wondrous, surprising, divine. Astonishing. 

She hears someone breathe loudly, as if catching their breath. It takes a moment to notice it is her. Miranda feels boneless at the moment, and cannot conquer any word to her mouth. 

Well. She did not expect this, at all.

She sees Andrea looking back, sees that she has noticed Miranda’s silence. What else she sees, Miranda does not know, but Andrea looks wildly perplexed. The younger woman even turns her head slightly, as if there might be someone behind her that Miranda is looking at. As if Miranda could look at anyone else right now. 

Miranda wills herself to stop staring at Andrea, and stands up, with her heart pounding violently in her ears. 

“Something to eat?” Miranda hurtles out the question.

“Um, sure.” 

Miranda determinedly heads to the kitchen without looking at Andrea. 

“Gretchen must have kept the leftovers from last night.”

“Oh, uh, did you not plan on eating at home tonight?” She hears Andrea get off the couch and walk over.

Miranda demands herself not to hyperventilate. What the fuck happened to her in the last few minutes?

“Hmm?” Is all she can remember to pronounce. Come back to your fucking senses right this moment, Miranda Priestly. 

“Were you planning to eat out?”

“Yes- no. I do not remember.” Who the fuck cares if someone is waiting for her at a restaurant somewhere. Her assistant will get the message and reschedule. Not her business. All Miranda has to focus on right now, is getting her fucking head back before she acts even more like a dunce than she already has.

“Err. Okay.” Without her noticing, Andrea’s voice is already much closer than Miranda determined. Miranda turns around, and Andrea is standing so close to her that Miranda backs into the refrigerator. 

“Stop doing that.” Miranda orders almost shrilly. To Andrea or to her own erratic heartbeat, she does not know. But it has to stop.

“I’m not doing anything.” Andrea has the audacity to sound composed, though thoroughly confused. She also backs up several steps.

“Yes, you are.” Miranda bites back.

“What?”

“You are fucking infuriating me.”

“What the fuck, Miranda?” Andrea looks displeased. Good. 

“Do you think you can just waltz back into my life?”

Andrea looks even more displeased. In fact, she looks down right pissed off. Join the fucking club.

“Miranda, you’re the one who invited me here,” Andrea begins, “No, not invited, you didn’t even ask, so you are the one at fault here.” At this, Andrea crosses her arms against her chest. “You’re the one who wanted me to come. Why though, I have no idea.”

“I’m at fault?” Miranda seethes.

“Yes! I’m not the one who had her driver turn back after leaving.”

“Yes, but you were the one who left, were you not?” Miranda shouts.

Andrea’s shock is bare on her face.

Miranda feels the blood leaving her cheeks. She turns back to the fridge. 

“I think it’s time you left.”

“What?” Miranda hears the outrage clearly.

“Leave.”

“No!”

“Go!” How dare she stay? She left in Paris, and she should leave right now. Before Miranda can say anything else, Andrea storms over. Andrea’s hands are on Miranda’s shoulders, forcing her to swivel around. Miranda glares with all the power she can muster. She feels Andrea’s fingers burning through her blouse. She is furious at the tingle. And terrified.

“Miranda,” Andrea is no doubt about to launch into a rant.

“You do not get to leave me at my worst,” Though she was even worse afterwards, Miranda does not let Andrea know. “And simply come back as you please. Who do you think you are, but a former second assistant,” Miranda puts emphasis on 'second', “that didn’t even have the decency to finish her term?” 

“Who am I?” Andrea looks as furious as Miranda feels. “I’m the idiot who ran to warn you of your boss’ scheme, because I thought you were in trouble! I’m the goddamn chump who thought you might actually be a decent person, instead of someone who would betray their friend without feeling any sense of guilt.”

Miranda feels as though she might burn with how hot her fury is.

“Am I supposed to applaud you for your loyalty? Give you a gold star?”

Miranda watches as Andrea’s face twists into a mirthless smile. Her heart hurts a little at the resigned look that accompanies.

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

Andrea backs up again. 

Miranda despises the distance.

“But Nigel. Nigel works so hard for you. He cares with every fibre of his body about the work he does, and check this,” Miranda shivers violently at the disbelieving laugh here, “He- he said you’d pay him back when the time was right.” 

Miranda aches at the scorching look.

“I’ll go now.” The words are soft, but the effect on Miranda is sharper than the knives hanging on the counter. 

“Is that why you left?” The question escapes before Miranda can grab hold of it. 

“What?” Andrea turns. 

“Nigel. Is that,” Miranda waves her hand frusratedly, “why you left?”

Andrea looks lost. So is Miranda.

“Yes, and no.”

“No?”

“No, because I- I- I… Miranda, why do you even care?” 

Miranda looks into perplexed brown eyes. 

They stare at each other. 

Miranda sits down at the dining table, exhausted all of a sudden. After a moment of hesitance, Andrea pulls out the chair from across, and sits down as well.

“When Stephen demanded the divorce, it hurt.” Miranda remembers the night she curled up in the hotel room. She remembers crying because she failed yet again. Failed to keep a husband, but more so, failed to give her daughters stability. 

Miranda also remembers wiping off the makeup, the pretense, the façade of not feeling and showing it to Andrea in a moment of weakness. However, in the deepest corners of her heart, she knows it was not just weakness. She admits now in her mind that she trusted Andrea, trusted that she would not tell anyone what she’d seen, and trusted in deep, caring brown eyes. 

She doesn’t have to look up to know those eyes are staring intently.

“When you left,” Miranda lifts her head and glares, but it’s without anger.

Andrea is muted, and Miranda doesn’t know what she’s thinking.

“When you left, it left a mark.” She lays it bare now. Confesses it to Andrea and finally to herself.

“I understand that you do not wish to become me, Andrea.” Miranda closes her eyes briefly. 

“Nigel has been my right hand man for many years, it was unspoken, but everyone knew. When he sought to leave, I gave my okay, but when it was revealed that I would be replaced, well, certain adjustments had to be made.”

Miranda sees the frown on Andrea’s face, and smiles ruefully at the young indignance. 

“You were of course, very resentful on your friend’s behalf. Do not refute, it’s true isn’t it?” Miranda holds up a hand when Andrea is about to argue.

“I never thanked you for all you did to warn me.”

Andrea is startled at the statement.

“About two months after Paris, Nigel was given the title of Managing Editor.” Miranda brushes lint off her skirt when Andrea lets out a surprised noise. 

“Well, that was what he was for quite some time, I suppose. Now he has a name for it, and a higher salary.”

Miranda taps her fingers on the table to get Andrea’s full attention, though it seems she already has it.

“I will never be kind or nice.” She enforces that. 

Andrea nods. “I know. I never expected you to be.”

“But I am starting to understand the benefits of acknowledging people for their worth.” And she really has. Her minions are just as terrified of her as always, but she gives them acknowledgement, whether it be a simple nod or allowing them to leave earlier once in a while, if the work was done and up to her standards.

Andrea snorts.

Miranda raises an eyebrow at the sound, but Andrea doesn’t look disbelieving, so Miranda does not see where the hilarity is from.

“Only you, Miranda. Only you would do something thoughtful, but mark it as giving you benefits.”

Miranda smirks. 

“Why would I do something if there are no benefits?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I’m here for no reason.” Andrea challenges with a small smile.

“Perhaps. But you’re here.” Miranda says simply.

Andrea’s smile is softer.

“I’m here.”

Miranda takes a deep breath.

“Indeed.”

“So, now what?” 

“Eloquent as always.”

“As are you,” Andrea teases back.

Miranda feels a smile inch on her face.

“Now,” she leans toward Andrea with her heart beating just a bit faster. Andrea swallows and slowly leans in as well. Miranda feels light-headed with something akin to glee.

Miranda itches to reach out and wipe Andrea’s confusion away, but warns herself just in time. 

“Now,” she breathes and Andrea sways closer.

“Dinner.” 

Miranda slides off the stool and heads to the long-forgotten refrigerator.

“Wha-” 

The editor-in-chief bends to hide her snicker. 

“Now, there must be a lasagna or salad around.”

“You-“

Miranda’s grin disappears when she feels Andrea’s heat behind her. It is her turn to gulp.

“Miranda?”

“Andrea?” Miranda breathes out.

Andrea says naught, and lightly presses her body against Miranda, who feels as though she may burst with anticipation. Andrea gently nudges Miranda’s face towards her, and very slowly leans in again. Her eyes warn Miranda not to run, and her lips… by god, her lips. Miranda feels her breath caught in her chest, and cannot remember when she’d been quite so hungry for something. And when Andrea’s lips touch her own, Miranda can’t remember a single thing.

“Mmm.” Miranda freezes at the sound of her own voice. 

Andrea chuckles and takes Miranda’s bottom lip between hers. Miranda abandons all thought of propriety and rotates so that she can cusp Andrea’s face and hungrily kisses her like she’s been starved. Miranda supposes she has. Andrea lets out a gasping breath, and her arms tighten around Miranda’s waist. 

Miranda cannot be closer to Andrea, yet she cannot get close enough. 

“Ungh…” Andrea sounds as if she’s been strangled when one of Miranda’s hands, on its own accord, slides down Andrea’s neck and palms her heaving chest. Miranda arches a brow, and ignores how her ears feels so, so warm.

“Hm, look how that happened.”

“You know exactly how it happened, Miranda.” Andrea sounds breathless but teasing nonetheless.

“Perhaps.” 

While she gently massages Andrea’s breast through her turtleneck, Miranda leans up, and lets out a whine into Andrea’s ear. Andrea’s head lolls, and she twitches in Miranda’s hand. 

“What are you doing?” Andrea whimpers.

“Nothing at all.” Miranda is discombombulated by the contrasting high of being in control and feeling powerless by the seemingly harmless woman holding her. She kisses Andrea again, as softly as she can manage, and feels Andrea’s lips chasing hers when she moves back. She tries to relinquish control and lets Andrea catch her. She never thought it would feel this good to be caught.

Andrea rewards her by kissing her neck, and Miranda is completely defenseless when Andrea’s kisses reach her collarbone.

She asks Andrea wonderingly, “What are you doing?” 

What was she doing to Miranda? 

“I have no idea.”

And perhaps she really did not.

Just then, Miranda hears the loud slam of a door. 

“Mo-oooom!”

“We’re hoo-oome!”

Miranda feels her blood run cold, and judging by Andrea’s short but appropriate “Shit!”, her anxiousness is mirrored. Why were the girls home? Normally, Miranda would be thrilled, but now she is cursing whoever was responsible for their early return. She and Andrea quickly jump apart. In a blink, Andrea is sitting far from Miranda, on the stool she previously occupied, and looks orderly except for the loss of her lipstick. 

Miranda glares. How did she manage that? She hopes she doesn’t look too rattled, since the twins’ blundering footsteps are soon to enter the kitchen nook. Andrea shoots her a teasing yet petrified look. Miranda can’t help but smile, and she hopes Andrea survives her daughters’ torture, for she quite longs for the chance to torture Andrea herself. In a very different way of course.

Miranda clears her throat and calls back.

“I’m in the kitchen, and do not run as if you are in a stampede. I surely raised girls instead of boars.”

Andrea lets out a half-suppressed laugh. 

Miranda is pleased, and the girls slow down. 

“Sorry mom.”

Cassidy, no doubt. Of her two girls, Caroline is more like herself than she would ever thought possible, from the proud way she holds herself to the merciless way she attacks. 

Which is why Miranda hopes Andrea is able to hold her own against Caroline. Oh, she might help, but letting Caroline loose on Andrea… that would be much more entertaining.

Miranda smirks at Andrea, who looks terrified and suspicious of the change. 

Good. 

Miranda hopes Andrea knows the significance of what she’d just revealed, and what it means to her. If she does, and survives the night, Miranda might just propose a relationship with her. 

Yes, the thought is quite acceptable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I kept you waiting! I realized a timeline mixup in the last chapter, so there's a minor adjustment there, and this chapter took longer than anticipated. The atmosphere is kinda different from the last, but I felt they had to deal with the past in order to actually have a relationship, sooooo this happened. Anyways, hope you enjoy it, and again, please leave a comment if you have time! I greatly enjoy your thoughts, and feel free to tell me if something feels off. That would also be very much appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading, see you next chap! :D


	3. New.

Miranda’s girls bound into the room, Cassidy first and Caroline just a step behind. Just like the way they were born. Cassidy, born only mere minutes before her sister, took a long while to come into the world, and entered with a hesitant and confused look on her face. The confusion stayed there until the nurse had smacked her gently on the bottom, and then Cassidy bawled like the baby she was.

Caroline, however, tore into the hospital room, immediately alerting the whole world of her presence, screaming balefully about being second.

Miranda hadn’t known such love could ever exist, until she had both of them in her arms. One that looked up with uncertain wonderment; and the other with the most sharpness a newborn baby could have, as if she were completely aware of who Miranda was to her. Both shattered every single invisible wall Miranda had built up in a hushing moment, and Miranda was unable to hold back tears of joy, joy of the pure elation that she was mother to these pink, wailing balls of terror.

She let herself cry in front of the doctor and nurses. She supposed they had earned the right, and they’d seen her much more vulnerable anyway.

Right now she could not bring herself to care about anything other than her two babies, and she vowed then and there that she would do anything to shield them from hurt. Would do anything to hold them from harm’s way. She vowed to fucking eradicate anyone, _anyone_ who had the sheer blinking thought of doing anything untoward to them. They were hers, and she theirs.

She has loved every single moment of being their mother.

Even when Cassidy broke her heart, crying about a boy professing his love for another girl, at the tender age of six. Miranda had to break her vow, because she could not do anything about a six year old boy liking another girl. A dolt that boy must be, she told Cassidy. Dumb to pick anyone over her.

She even loved the moment Caroline tore a new one into a date Miranda had, after she had divorced the girls’ father when they were eight. Caroline didn’t mind her dating so much, but had despised the man who didn’t give her and her sister a fleeting glance. Miranda does not think she can even pinpoint the man out of a lineup now. As soon as her girls had shown their utter contempt towards the ignorant twat, Miranda all but kicked him out the second after. Seeing Caroline grinning triumphantly and Cassidy in awe, Miranda made another vow that she would not ever, ever break.

Which is why she so hopes that the girls would learn to like Andrea. Should they not, Miranda would have to ask Andrea to go. No matter the price, her daughters would always come first.

Which is also why Miranda is feeling quite nervous. She can admit that. She breathes in through her nose, and slowly lets it out of her slightly trembling lips. She can only imagine how terrified Andrea must be right now. She knows that the girls had played a hand in Andrea coming up the stairs all those months ago. No other reason could Andrea have wandered into No Woman’s Land.

She never wagged her fingers at the girls for that though. She knows how they used to play games on her long line of assistants. They rarely do so now, just like they had learned to do their own work. However, she could never begrudge her girls from having fun. Her assistants should know better, of course.

Miranda feels the smile reserved for her girls only, appear on her face.

“Caroline, Cassidy. Why are you home so early, and how did you get back?”

Surely they knew to call her driver first, seeing as their friends’ parents did not accompany them. Caroline spoke first, though her eyes were trained narrowly on a gulping Andrea.

“Mom, we didn’t want to stay at Wendy’s. She yaks on and on about herself and the boys who like her. It’s so idiotic.”

“We called Roy. He came for us right after he drove you home,” Cassidy gave the more helpful information swiftly after her sister. “We sent him home.”

While Caroline is glaring at Andrea with skepticism, wide-eyed Cassidy is looking between Andrea and her mother with her head tilted slightly. Both girls have fiery, wild hair that Miranda cannot bring herself to tame. Their eyes however, is the main characteristic that a more knowledgeable person could use to tell them apart. Caroline’s eyes are always tinged with at least a hint of suspicion around people who are not her family and friends, while Cassidy’s are much too pure and innocent, to Miranda’s complete bewilderment.

“You’re mom’s old assistant.” Cassidy announces this with no question in her voice, before Miranda can even give a reply.

Miranda’s breath catches in her throat, and she waits along with the twins for Andrea’s answer. Cassidy is no doubt waiting for an explanation, but that’s all she’s waiting for. Meanwhile, Caroline is waiting to pounce. Miranda can see the glint in her eyes, and for once, wishes Caroline weren’t quite so alike her.

“Yes,” is all Andrea has to say to that.

Miranda waits.

Cassidy waits.

Caroline attacks.

“Why are you here, in _our_ dining room?” Caroline’s tone leaves no doubt that she thinks Andrea should go, and leave the two girls alone with their mother. Miranda forcefully swallows back a reprimand for her rudeness.

Andrea eyes Miranda uncertainly, and Miranda nudges her to go on and answer, with a tiny lift of her chin. Andrea’s shoulders square for a moment, and then she holds herself in a different way somehow. Miranda is flummoxed by the change. It doesn’t seem like Andrea has done much, yet the imperceptible changes make her seem suddenly regal… Quite impressive.

“We met when your mom got off work, and then decided to talk about some issues that needed to be handled. I’m sorry to be in the way of your family time, though. If I’d known you were going to be back, we could have rescheduled.”

Miranda’s eyebrow arches without her demand.

“Yeah? You don’t work for her anymore, why do you need to talk?” Caroline presses on, seemingly unimpressed. Imagine that. Miranda _was_ impressed, both by her former assistant and by her proud, unrelenting daughter.

Andrea now seems unflappable, even with perhaps the scariest eleven-year-old in the entire world staring her down, Miranda muses with a wry smile. Interesting.

“People talk,” Andrea remarks lightly. “I don’t have to work for her to talk, I talk to tons of people.”

“Uh-huh, and why don’t you run off and talk to them instead?” Caroline turns away, indifferently, and heads towards the fridge.

Quite a technique. Miranda wonders if Caroline picked up on her doing so. Andrea continues to sit at the counter, and slowly, Cassidy pulls out the stool next to her. Cassidy’s eyes look as though she’s watching a table tennis match, and Miranda stands by the refrigerator, looking on as her youngest opens the metal door.

“I’d rather talk to your mom.”

Hm. Does she really?

Miranda notes Andrea’s eyes focusing directly on the child currently fixing herself a snack.

“Why?”

Caroline is intent on making her own concoction of fruit. Blueberries, peaches and freshly homemade-whipped cream. She also takes out three glass bowls. During the process, Caroline looks careless about the answers and questions bouncing back and forth. Instead, she puts attention on the task before her. Even so, Miranda sees how her daughter’s body is training itself towards Andrea, and she has no doubt that Caroline is ferally paying attention to Andrea’s words.

“I like talking to her. She’s very interesting to talk to, don’t you think so?”

Miranda feels her lips twitch into an amused smile. She wonders if her girls see it. Cassidy is silent, but her eyes are now fixed on Miranda. Miranda beams more tenderly at her eldest, hoping to ease her anxiety. Cassidy returns the smile after a second of thought.

On Miranda’s side of the kitchen nook, slowly dividing the fruit into the three transparent bowls, Caroline is still not looking at Andrea.

“You’re talking to mom because she’s _interesting_?” Miranda hears the seething beneath the calm surface. She comes to stand by Caroline, determining that it was time to let the fire simmer down.

Before she finishes the couple of steps, Andrea’s voice pushes through the fire valiantly.

“Yes, and because I’ve missed her during my time away,” Miranda’s attentiveness snaps to Andrea immediately. She can see from the corners of her eyes, both redheads doing the same. She smiles freely at the similarity her girls hold to her, but scans Andrea’s face for ingenuity.

She finds none.

Staring into brown, emotive eyes that are boring into her soul, she feels her heart pounding again. The brown eyes continue their journey of meeting shocked, yet burning blue, and the owner of said eyes finishes her sentence.

“I don’t know if you know this, but I made a stupid mistake in Paris, and didn’t give your mother an explanation.” Miranda can’t hold back her jerk at the memory. However, she doesn’t direct her eyes elsewhere. She waits for Andrea to keep talking, highly aware of her daughters listening in.

“I was terrified and angry at something,” Andrea continues woefully. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted, and so scared of change, so scared of losing the people I _loved_.” Miranda hears the emphasis on the past tense, and wonders what happened there. She’ll get an answer later.

“So I pushed into self-defense, panic mode, and I ran.”

Simple as that, Miranda thinks.

“I left without an explanation, and up until today, didn’t think I would ever get the chance to talk to your mom about it.” At this, Andrea is sorrowful. Her caring eyes emit all her regrets and Miranda can just imagine the babbling apologies Andrea would most likely pour out. But Andrea doesn’t let them out now. Not now.

“And she granted me that chance.” Andrea pulls her gaze away from Miranda, and looks between the two adolescents. Miranda chances a look at both of them. One is sitting quietly on the stool next to Andrea, with a gape on her face. The other is staring Andrea down, face blank except for her piercing contemplation. Miranda is yet again in awe of her younger daughter, and a voice in the back of her mind tells her she does not ever, ever want to be on the other side of that stare.

The foursome stays silent for a few moments, looking between one another. Miranda opens her mouth to say something, but falls short on words. She hides her attempt by glancing at the bowl of fruit, complete with whipped cream on top that Caroline hands her.

“Thank you, Bobbsey.” Miranda pats Caroline’s arm gently. Caroline gives Cassidy another bowl, and keeps one for herself.

Andrea is unsmiling, but her eyes are attentive and warm.

Miranda supposes she could step in, but instead waits for Caroline to make the next move.

It’s the most exhilarating game of chess she has ever watched.

Miranda looks on as Caroline takes her time to spoon a bite full of fruit and cream into her mouth, and looks on as her scrutinizing daughter licks the whipped cream off her lips.

Sugar has always been Caroline’s best friend.

Then, Caroline yawns and slowly turns around to the counter. Miranda’s eyes trace her movements. Caroline pulls open the drawer of utensils, and pulls out a fourth spoon. One they rarely use.

Miranda holds her breath as Caroline walks back, spoon in hand and nothing more.

Andrea looks at Caroline expectantly. Caroline gives her the spoon, and their hands meet. Caroline gives her a blazing glare, and Miranda is once more, admiring the way Andrea does not back away.

Caroline stares for a bit longer, and then sits down on the stool at their side of the table. She simply starts eating her self-made dessert, and engages wide-eyed Cassidy in a chat of their friend Wendy.

“God, we shouldn’t go to Wendy’s house anymore. Let’s hang out with Sarah instead.”

Well. Ex-friend now, Miranda supposes.

“But Sarah is so boring,” Miranda’s elder daughter protests. Cassidy seems to be over the shocking exchange already. Miranda is not.

“Yeah, but at least we’ll get to watch good T.V. at her house. Wendy doesn’t even watch anything other than _Hannah Montana_.”

Caroline rolls her eyes in a way that rivals Miranda. As if there is nothing more tedious than the Disney show about a young pop star hiding her identity. Miranda presumes there isn’t. Her daughters have inherited her impeccable taste, after all.

Andrea has paused since Caroline handed her the spoon. She looks confused as of what to do with a mere spoon. Miranda rolls her eyes and takes a bite out of her own bowl.

Mmm. Delightful.

She shivers at the pleasurable taste. And then shivers from an even more pleasurable gaze Andrea sends her way. Miranda licks her lips and bites her lower lip unguardedly.

Andrea’s eyes are now fixed on Miranda’s lips, and the older woman could not remember a moment more exciting than this. However, they have to remember that the girls are sitting on opposite sides next to both of them. Miranda has to control herself. Anything that will pleasure her beyond Andrea’s smolder will have to come after the twins have gone to bed, or another time.

Miranda’s heart clenches at having to wait.

“What are you waiting for? Eat.” Caroline drawls out the command in a bored tone, looking at Andrea like she’d never seen someone dumber.

“Err, I don’t have a bowl… I’ll go make one.” Andrea is now dumbfounded, shaking her head, perhaps to clear some thoughts that Miranda imagines to be downright indecent. Miranda clears her throat and shoves some more fruit into her dry mouth.

Caroline’s hand shoots up before Andrea walks into the kitchen, serving her with an even more exasperated look – Miranda did not even think that was possible – and orders her to sit with her eyes.

“No, you don’t,” Caroline explains exhaustedly, “Just share with mom. Geez.”

Andrea’s eyebrows shoot up beneath her ruffled bangs, and Miranda is sure that hers are the same way.

“Um, really?” Andrea voices Miranda’s question.

Miranda is thrilled at the bored but amused peer Caroline sends both of them.

Cassidy is now grinning, having anticipated Caroline’s ending statement already. Miranda once again wishes she could have their twin powers, and share the joke.

Miranda stares her daughter down.

“Yes, really.” Caroline mocks. Really. Though she is very impressed, Miranda should have a word later on about Caroline’s tone. She does not wish to receive tedious phone calls from their teachers, after all.

Caroline’s eyes are twinkling with mirth when she says her last words of the night.

“She’s very interesting to talk to, after all, so she must be interesting enough to share food with. Maybe next Friday, you can share a meal after we come back from school.” Caroline is inspecting her nails, while Miranda and Andrea are both speechless at her nonchalant invitation. No, not invite, demand.

Miranda cannot believe how alike her, this cunning daughter of hers is. And she cannot even begin to fathom what it means that Caroline let someone - demanded their presence even - at their truly sacred family night. The night they vow to share, no matter what dire circumstances the Runway mockup might be in.

Miranda is astounded by how her daughters have picked up on the significance Andrea holds, within minutes of meeting her once more, and feels short-winded at the implication this invitation has.

Miranda has lost count of the times she’s been truly speechless in the past few hours.

Andrea, however, seems to have found her groove again.

A hopeful, ridiculous grin is spread on her goofy-looking, charming face.

Andrea dares to hold Miranda’s gaze, as she cheerfully spoons out a taste of the dessert for herself. A taste of Miranda’s bowl. Miranda’s.

How outrageously brazen.

She feels her heart flutter at Andrea’s expectant, probing look.

“Yes,” Andrea addresses the girls, “that would be quite acceptable.”

The twins let out shocked giggles, and Miranda shakes her head at the theft of identity.

She cannot wait until Friday.

Better yet, she cannot wait until the twins’ bedtime comes. But for now, she’ll be perfectly patient, and let the three form a bond. Miranda taps her lips thoughtfully.

Yes, quite acceptable indeed, Andrea.

An hour later when the three giggling ladies are done chatting for the night, and the twins are bounding up the stairs, Miranda halts her impure thoughts about tearing Andrea down in a completely different way, when Cassidy, _Cassidy_ , throws an airy remark down the stairs.

“Oh Andrea, would you have a talk with mom about the lipstick on her neck? We fear she’s lost her makeup skills.”

These girls just might be the death of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter up! It was a lovely ride, thank you for everything, guys!!!!! Hope you like this and don't forget to leave a comment should you have the time!


End file.
